


Dance With Her

by alistairweekend



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Commission fic, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Gift Fic, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: Alistair reflects on his relationship with Briana Cousland while relaxing in camp one night. When Leliana brings out her lute, Alistair is hit with a surge of courage and asks Briana to dance with him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Redofthewolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redofthewolves/gifts).



> This piece was a commission for @Redofthewolves. If you would be interested in commissioning something from me, please check out my [commission info page](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QnsYXHYEpJMTVcrblJDNbBTRKaeuJ3wresEN4jip5m8/edit?usp=sharing)!

Alistair appreciated time spent in camp. Pervasive dampness and bland food aside, what had originally been a necessary routine of setting up camp eventually became more of a comforting ritual. After a grueling day more often than not filled to the brim with unpleasantness, camp was a time out. Camp was the closest thing Alistair had to a  _ home _ . A warm fire, a decent bedroll... and the company wasn’t half bad, either.

Despite his initial reservations, most of the ragtag group assembled around the last two Grey Wardens had grown on Alistair. Most. Morrigan was still rather insufferable, in his humble opinion, and the memory of Zevran attempting to kill them all was a bit too fresh to let go of just yet. But Leliana turned out to have morals Alistair agreed with, and he got along with Wynne swimmingly -- she was practically the grandmother he never had. And then, there was  _ Briana _ .

Briana fit into an entire category of her own. The fact that she was Alistair’s Grey Warden companion, the other survivor of Ostagar, already put her high up on his “people I care about” list. The fact that he had developed  _ feelings _ for her... well.

It had been rather inevitable, now that he thought back on it. Briana was so intelligent, kind, beautiful...  _ strong _ . Alistair had admired her from the moment he met her, though he couldn’t say for sure exactly when the appreciation for her character had turned into legitimate feelings. It had taken a while; in the beginning, Alistair had been rather distracted by his grief over Ostagar. 

Briana had it rough as well. Alistair began to reach out to her, to get to actually know her, after he had considered her history. No one else knew the extent what she had been through, so no one else would likely ever think to inquire about her wellbeing. He figured it was the least he could do for her.

Not knowing when his attitude had shifted from platonic to romantic didn’t matter, in the end. What  _ did _ matter was that Briana apparently  _ returned _ Alistair’s feelings, by some miracle. The high Alistair had experienced when they had confirmed their mutual attraction still hadn’t quite worn off yet, even though it had been over a week. If he thought too hard about it, his giddy excitement seemed a bit absurd given the current situation. But he had to cling to anything good he could find if he wanted to stay sane through all this.

Like now. Sitting around the fire, a warm bowl of food in his hands, no darkspawn or demons or evildoers in sight. The only thing that Alistair found himself wanting for was Briana to be by his side, but, as a glance about revealed, she was currently on the other side of camp, talking to Morrigan. Truly a testimony of her incredible tolerance and kindness, Alistair thought.

“It’s very quiet.” Leliana broke the soft ambiance of the fire and surrounding forest, earning Alistair and Zevran’s attentions. “Shouldn’t things be a little livelier? We achieved a great victory at Redcliffe.”

_ Eamon is still bedridden and possibly near death, _ Alistair’s mind immediately countered, but he bit the words back, trying to force his thoughts to steer more positively. “That so? What would you have us do?”

“I believe we should celebrate,” Leliana answered firmly, leaning down to grab something from behind the log she sat upon. “I have my lute and plenty of songs.”

“Fantastic,” Zevran chimed in enthusiastically. “A party would serve us well. I will get the wine!”

Before Alistair could protest -- poison came to mind at the mention of wine -- the elf had spun away to their cache of provisions.

Crossing his arms, Alistair shot a pointed look at Leliana, who was too busy tuning her lute to be concerned with Zevran. “If we all die tonight, I’m putting part of the blame on you.”

Leliana simply chuckled and strummed a few notes. “I can test drinks for poison, if you are so scared.”

Alistair wasn’t sure why a lay sister would have knowledge of assassin’s poisons, but he didn’t question it as Leliana eased into playing an actual song. Soon Alistair’s worries were nearly forgotten as the lovely melody enveloped the camp.

The music drew Wynne out of her tent, who came and sat across the fire from Leliana with a pleased smile. Zevran returned and began pouring drinks, making sure to unseal the bottles publicly so as to ease suspicions.

Finally, there was enough commotion to entice Briana to end her chat with Morrigan and investigate. Alistair was surprised to see Morrigan trailing behind, albeit looking rather resigned. Several paces away from the main circle she stopped, deciding to hover and watch from a distance rather than properly joining in the fun. Progressive, for Morrigan.

Alistair felt a flutter in his chest as Briana came and sat right next to him, eyebrows raised in interest. “What’s all this?” she asked just loud enough for him to hear, careful not to interrupt the music.

"Celebration for... well, surviving Redcliffe,” Alistair explained with a wry smile. Briana mirrored the expression in understanding as she was handed a goblet.

They sat there, their silence comfortable as the music filled the air between them. Alistair resisted the urge to look over at Briana every few seconds; a burning curiosity as to what expression she currently wore tugged at his mind. This was nothing new -- Alistair experienced the feeling fairly often, but he always suppressed it, not wanting her to think he was strange. That made it all the more frustrating, however, especially paired with how his love struck mind raced every time he came near Briana. Alistair began tapping his foot to release some of his anxious energy.

When the song ended, applause was given by everyone gathered. “That was wonderful, dear,” Wynne said. Leliana inclined her head in thanks.

“Could I request a song?” At last, Alistair had an excuse to look at Briana as she piped up. She seemed... looser, somehow; her posture not quite as stiff as it normally was, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. Not that Briana was  _ uptight _ , per se, but usually she possessed a more formal air. Whether this was the doing of the wine in her cup or she simply found herself in an exceptional mood, Alistair could not be entirely certain. Whatever the case, this new side of her intrigued him.

“Certainly,” Leliana replied. She patted the empty spot to her right. “Tell me the name. I would be shocked if I did not know it.”

Briana left her current seat to sit where Leliana had gestured. Momentarily, the disappointment of her leaving his side washed over him, until the fact that he could now watch her unabashedly lessened the severity. She named her song, and Alistair did not know the name but quickly recognized the tune -- a common Fereldan ballad -- as Leliana began playing.

As Alistair observed her, he noticed Briana take on an interesting expression. She was clearly enjoying the song, but he felt a sense of melancholy from her. Alistair wondered if she often listened to this song during her old life, before becoming a Grey Warden.

“A lovely song,” Leliana concluded once it was over. “The night is still young, however!” And with that she launched into another song, this one much more energetic than either of its predecessors. Briana remained next to Leliana, the dark waves of her hair swaying as she nodded her head to the music.

Suddenly the distance between Alistair and Briana was far too much. The two of them had hardly spoken to one another all evening, and Alistair was growing tired of admiring her from several feet away. He wanted to be with her. That, paired with the lively music and cheerful atmosphere... Alistair didn’t know how to dance. And yet, the only solution to his problem that his brain provided was,  _ Dance with her _ .

He stood and made his way over to Briana. She had been watching Leliana, but sensed his approach and turned her head, blinking inquisitively. With a grin and a flourish, Alistair gave an exaggerated bow and extended his hand towards Briana. “May I have this dance, my lady?” He had to raise his voice somewhat to be heard over the music. Leliana kept playing, but cast Alistair an amused look.

Alistair’s gesture drew a laugh from Briana. “Alistair, do you even know how to dance?”

He felt his face heat up, but Alistair kept smiling. “Definitely not. But there’s a first time for everything!”

Although she raised an eyebrow dubiously, a corner of Briana’s mouth quirked upwards. She placed her hand in Alistair’s.

A rush of triumph filled Alistair at his success. “Come on!” Pulling Briana towards the center of the sitting area, Alistair hardly gave her a chance to gain her bearings before his hands took position -- one on her waist, one holding her hand -- and he began spinning, leaning back against Briana’s weight and taking small side-steps. Occasionally he would take quicker steps in a meager attempt to at least appear to be keeping in time with the song, but truly his “dance” had no rhyme or reason to it.

Briana’s feet began moving of their own volition so as to avoid tripping. After a brief moment of shock at the unexpected vigor of Alistair’s movements, Briana burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut. She said his name and tried to make words follow, but no sentence formed in her breathlessness. 

This was possibly the widest Alistair had ever seen Briana smile, and his own grin widened to match it in delight. He had never witnessed her so... unrestrained; despite her having no obligation to act like a noble, it wasn’t hard to tell that she was of high standing. She always appeared to be so composed, and Alistair had been in awe of her for it in the first few weeks of being in her company. Since then he knew her better, however, and knew that her outward expressions, especially the calm ones, didn’t necessarily reflect how she felt inside.

Now, seeing her laugh openly and loudly, her joy transparent, and knowing that  _ he _ was the cause of it... Alistair nearly stopped dancing. He loved it. He loved  _ her _ . He wanted to make Briana laugh like this whenever he could, forever. He wanted to know and understand every facet of her; what made her do the things she did, feel the things she felt. Most of all, he wanted to make her happy. If nothing else, Alistair felt a deep certainty that this woman  _ deserved _ happiness.

“Alistair! Alistair, stop!” Briana’s voice pierced through his thoughts, and they stumbled to a halt. She doubled over, panting and still shaking with laughter. “Maker’s breath, if we kept that up I might have lost my dinner.”

Alistair grinned sheepishly, keeping a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Briana straightened, taking one last deep breath and brushing her hair out of her face. A smile remained on her lips, and her blue eyes sparkled as they found their way to Alistair again. “Let me teach you how to  _ actually _ dance, will you?”

Alistair hesitated, uncertain, but his desire for the night to not end just yet made him concede. “Well, if you insist.”

Most of the gathered group had retired to their tents in the midst of the last song, but Leliana remained. Without even needing to be prompted, she began playing a slower, sweeter song.

Briana’s smile became smaller, but still genuine, as she guided Alistair’s hands to the correct positions. “The lead’s left hand goes under the shoulder blade, not on the waist. A common misconception,” she explained. “We’ll start with a waltz.”

Alistair certainly wasn’t a natural, but surprisingly he didn’t seem to be  _ too _ terrible at it. He had never been excited at the idea of formal ballroom dancing. It wasn’t half bad with Briana, though. Alistair simply hoped he wouldn’t have to do this at a legitimate event someday.

At Briana’s instructions, Alistair avoided looking at his feet, which left him to gaze into her eyes. The firelight flickered against her features, highlighting her cheekbones and strong jawline, and Alistair was struck once again at how beautiful she was.

It happened gradually, but eventually Leliana’s music faded into nothingness and she returned to her tent. Alistair and Briana drew closer, the steps to the dance growing smaller and smaller until they merely shuffled from one foot to the other, slowly rotating in an unspoken agreement to stay together. Briana rested her head on Alistair’s chest.

_ I could get used to this _ , Alistair thought contentedly, his gaze traveling upwards to look at the stars, which were becoming clearer as the fire dimmed. Out here in the dark, Alistair suddenly felt very small, though not in an entirely negative way. The world was going on without him at the moment, and the problems with the Blight seemed far away. But Alistair knew they were on the horizon. It occurred to him just how fragile his entire situation was; one wrong move, one bad judgment, and Thedas would fall to the Blight. Yet he didn’t feel a sense of dread as he normally would have -- rather, he found himself musing at just how  _ lucky _ he was to have Briana with him.

Alistair looked back down, at the top of Briana’s head. “Briana, can I tell you something?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” she murmured.

“I’d like you to know how thankful I am that I met you.” Briana stopped shuffling at the unexpected subject, but she kept her cheek against Alistair’s abdomen. He continued: “I don’t know if the Maker is really out there, or if anything is, but I’d like whatever made our meeting possible to know how grateful I am. I don’t know what I would do without you. Quite literally, considering our current situation,” Alistair added with a huff of breath.

“I’d also like you to know... that I feel... strongly, about you. It’s not a petty infatuation. It might seem too soon for me to say that, or you might not feel the same way, but it is how I feel and I thought it only right to let you know.” To say he didn’t feel any anxiety upon admitting this would be a lie, but strangely, Alistair’s emotions were not nearly as agitated as they usually were.

Briana moved her head so she could look up at Alistair’s face. Her brow was furrowed in deep thought. Alistair waited patiently for her to respond, and after a moment she did: “No, I... I feel the same way.”

That was enough to spur Alistair’s nerves back into action. Butterflies filled his stomach and heart, and his mouth broke into a smile. “Good,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Briana, gentle and sweet.

When they broke apart, Briana kept her eyes closed a few seconds longer as if still savoring the kiss. With a sigh, her eyes opened. “I think it’s my time for watch. Get some sleep, Alistair.”

A faint pout formed on Alistair’s lips. “Oh, all right. Don’t overdo it, Briana. As much as you are amazing, you need rest too.”

She didn’t reply, but her hand lingered on Alistair’s as she walked away.

Alistair went back to his tent and burrowed under the fur blankets, feeling content and enlightened. Something rare and wonderful had come into his life in the form of Briana Cousland, and he wasn’t going to take the blessing for granted.


End file.
